


House Jumping

by Pedonecrophilia (Redleaveshavefallen)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Break in AU, Gen, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 16:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redleaveshavefallen/pseuds/Pedonecrophilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima had been /sure/ this house was abandoned when he broke into it....</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Jumping

**Author's Note:**

> I might make a second chapter???? That is actually shippy???? But I have absolutely zero ideas other than the introduction. So until I get some ideas (or some ideas are suggested), treat this as a oneshot.

Okay, this is going to sound really, really generic, and really, really stupid, but basically, this is the story about a regular, extremely average guy and the strange situation he found himself in.

 

Some background: Yamaguchi Tadashi had just graduated from Karasuno High School. He had average grades, he was average height, and maybe below-average looking. He used to get picked on in middle school because of his acne and his freckles. The acne gradually left (except for a few scars), but the freckles didn’t (which he found unfortunate). He had a few friends, but none of them ever grew very close. He was on the volleyball team, but wasn’t good enough to be a regular. He was just a bench warmer that very, very occasionally got to serve. Because he was average. Entirely unnoteworthy.

 

And this continued even after high school. He hadn’t had any idea about what he wanted to study, so he didn’t continue to college (not like he would have had the grades to get into a great school, anyway). He was working full time at a supermarket—his friend/mentor helped him get the job. His friend had also invited him to join the community volleyball club (which was coincidentally how they met), but he didn’t feel confident enough in his abilities to even join that. Instead, he worked a boring job day in and day out, working to support the rent of the dingy two-room apartment where he lived. Yamaguchi had thought moving out of his family’s house would help him realize his place in the adult world and spark some sort of epiphany, but all it had really done was make him poor and lonely.

 

He had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do with his life. Maybe he’d eventually realize there was some major passion he had had all along and he would go to school and study—that’s what he kept hoping for, anyway. For now, he was thinking he’d start saving money, one day be financially stable enough to move into a nicer apartment, maybe coach volleyball at community centers once he got past his insecurities; though, he never liked the thought of going back to mean-hearted school children. But it was something, right?

 

So there he was: a completely average, normal, boring 18-year-old, in his below-average, messy, decaying 100-year-old apartment. It was night, and the room was shrouded in a shallow darkness. He was sitting by his mini fridge (there was never enough food to merit buying a full-sized one) wondering whether the milk had gone bad yet. The window was open, even though the rest of the apartment complex smelled like cigarette smoke, but the rainy night air felt nice blowing through the room. His small table was clothed in open real-estate magazines he would never get to reading, all filled with homes he couldn’t afford. Somewhere, in the mess, was his favourite coffee cup, and he was still wondering how he managed to lose it in such a small room with so little furnishings. And it was a quiet, ordinary night that was very much straight out of every other calendar date he had lived since he’d started his independent life.

 

And that’s when someone climbed in through the window.

 

THUD. A large body fell to the ground with a groan, and just a little bit of a splash. Yamaguchi tensed up like steel, his eyes snapping to the dark silhouette beneath his window. Slowly, the form rose from the ground, becoming taller and taller until it reached its full height—which was a lot more than he had been expecting. And then it saw him.

 

“Woah, someone actually lives in this dump!” He seemed almost amused—there may have even been a bit of a chuckle in his voice. “Why the hell would you leave the window open if it’s raining? Your stuff’ll get wet.” The strange man started feeling across the wall, groping at the doorframe. “And your light’s not on—-are you hiding or something? Maybe you’re a squatter too, huh?”

 

The stranger had finally found the light switch; he flicked it on, but the room stayed dark. In confusion, he flicked it a few more times: no response.

 

“Um, uh…The lightbulb. It burned out yesterday, and I forgot to buy a new one on the way home, so there isn’t any light….” 

The stranger turned to Yamaguchi with a cocked eyebrow. “…You’re pretty dim, aren’t you?”

 

At first Yamaguchi thought he was talking about the room, so he was about to answer ‘yes, it is pretty dim’, but then his brain caught up to him and he shut up. He was still sitting rigidly in front of his minifridge holding a carton of (maybe?) expired milk, and the whole thing was beginning to make him feel more and more foolish.

 

He began putting it away (he’d check later), with the stranger still watching him. 

“…Isn’t this the part where you tell me to get out of your house?”

 

Tadashi continued to stare at the minifridge door, far too frightened to make eye contact. He hadn’t even thought he had the authority to yell at the him—Yamaguchi had never been known for his backbone when it came to big, intimidating strangers.

 

“Well, uh, it’s raining, and you sounded pretty wet, and… do you need anything?”

The stranger audibly scoffed. “A towel would be nice.”

 

“Oh, okay!” Yamaguchi scrambled up and grabbed a towel, before throwing it at the tall male—he caught it and began drying himself off, a short, mean laugh coming from him.

 

“Pathetic. You’re completely pathetic.”

Yamaguchi stood there in silence, not really able to defend himself. “If you’re cold, should I shut the window?”

This only made the stranger laugh harder. Yamagichi ran to the window, if only to distract himself from the mockery. 

 

But once he had shut the window, it was suddenly made much more obvious what kind of situation he was in. Without the sound of the rain, it was made starkly apparent that there was someone else in his room. Every sound the man made was amplified and booming in his ears—the walls suddenly felt so much more confining, the room so much smaller. Maybe he should have escaped out the window when he had the chance.

 

“….You’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“I probably should, just to teach you a lesson. But manslaughter isn’t really my thing.” He shrugged, and threw the towel back at Yamaguchi, who caught it and finally decided to look at his new squatter.

 

The man really was tall. Still, there was definitely a boyish quality about him—maybe the way his short hair was tousled. Behind his glasses, his eyes were sharp and unfriendly, even as he smiled (or rather, smirked). The smirk quickly faded though, leaving only a frowning damp man sitting on his floor.

 

“How old are you?” Yamaguchi asked.

“18.”

“We’re the same age!” This somehow made the man seem much less scary. “You look familiar somehow. Did you play volleyball at all?”

The stranger looked up at him, a crease in his brow. He obviously didn't remember Yamaguchi (go figure). “Yeah, I played on Nekoma’s team.”

“Oh! Yeah, we played you… No wonder. You’re so tall.” Yamaguchi looked at his feet when he said this, suddenly a bit more ashamed. “If I remember you, you were probably a regular.”

“Who cares?” The stranger sounded a bit bitter. “It’s just a dumb game, anyway.”

Yamaguchi frowned. “But you’re so lucky. I mean, if you’re good enough to be a regular….”

 

“So what?” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “I’m good at lots of things. I got into a good Tokyo university. People keep congratulating me. But all I’m doing is studying and studying so I can get some boring, high paying job, and die in an office somewhere. In my free time I play a sport that will never get me anywhere in life. I only get on the court because of my height.” He grit his teeth. “And every day I cross the street, I step in front of an incoming car hoping it will hit me. It never does, and I’m stuck in this meaningless existence wondering why I bother staying in school. So today I just left. I got on a bus and rode as far away from Tokyo as I cared to go.”

 

He closed his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand into his tired eyes. “But I guess I don’t do suicidal well, because after being soaked in the rain I broke into a house and started spilling my guts to a stranger. Maybe I’m the pathetic one.”

 

They stayed there in silence for a bit, the only sound being rain hitting the window. It had gotten harder. What had once been a calming pour was now a violent storm.

 

“…I don’t get it,” Yamaguchi finally said.

“Don’t get what?”

“You. You’re smart, you have a future, you’re tall and healthy… You have everything you could want. I don’t get it.” Yamaguchi felt his hands ball up into fists. “You’re perfect! Why throw that away?!”

“What do you know?”

 

Yamaguchi glared back at him for a second, before realizing what he was doing; arguing with a soaking wet boy who was already feeling down on his luck. He sighed, and started rummaging through his food again. “Nothing, I guess. Have you had anything to eat? I don’t have much, but I can spare some ramen or something…”

 

The boy stared at him for a few seconds, before hiding his face in his shoulder. “You really are something.”

\--------------

Yamaguchi looked at his small table with a hint of nervousness. There the blonde boy sat, eating ramen noodles in the darkness while Yamaguchi pretended to flip through one of his real estate magazines. The only sounds were the beating rain on the walls and the quiet slurping of noodles—he had an incessant urge to turn on the TV, but somehow felt too nervous to walk around freely with the stranger in his home.

 

“…I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi.”

The stranger looked up from his instant noodles with vague curiosity.

“…….And you? What’s your name?”

“I don’t want to give it to you. You might report me to the police.”

“Would I really be feeding you if I had planned on calling the police?”

 

Tsukishima merely looked down and continued eating. Yamaguchi sighed in defeat, finally turning on the TV. The program wasn’t worthy of any interest, but at least there was a bit of light now. “How long are you planning to stay here?” He prodded.

“You’re not going to kick me out?”

“The last trains are coming soon. Would you be able to make it back to Tokyo before they shut down for the night?”

The stranger frowned at his ramen. “Probably not.”

“Then I guess you’re staying here for the night.”

Now the blonde shot his head up again, startled. The corner of his mouth perked up as he narrowed his eyes. “You’re kidding.”

“Well, you don’t have anywhere else to go, right? I can’t just leave you to die in the rain.”

“That was my original plan, so you could.”

Yamaguchi frowned. “I didn’t just feed you to let it go to waste. You’re staying.”

 

And that was that. The stranger continued to mock him for a while, and for the rest of the night picked around Yamaguchi’s place for further things to poke fun at. At least while he found Yamaguchi’s cup while he was at it.  
But Yamaguchi looked at the time, and realizing he had work the next morning, started getting out the tatami mat reserved for guests. The stranger looked like he wanted to kill more time, fidget and snark and distract himself, but soon the TV was turned off and Yamaguchi started approaching his bed.

 

“Don’t you have school tomorrow? You’ll have to get up early if you want to make it on time.”

“As if I care,” the stranger scoffed. Still, he obediently climbed into the tatami mat provided for him. For a while, there was just darkness and silence between them, until Yamaguchi chose to speak again.

 

“You don’t really know where you are, right? Do you want me to help you find the train station tomorrow morning?”

“You’re really too much of a pushover. Just worry about yourself.”

“So I should push you back into the rain?” He replied with a bit of humor.

“You should.” The was a tense moment of silence, before he heard the blond sigh and roll to his side. “Yamagushi Tadachi, right?”

“No, YamaguCHI TadaSHI.”

 

“Whatever. Yamagushi.” It was hard to tell, but there was a bit of sincerity in the way he said the mispronounced name—he said it in the same tone of voice one would use to thank someone. With the rotten personality he had been putting up with all night, Yamaguchi smiled a bit at this new sound.

A few more rustlings of covers filled the room, and then they were both asleep.

\---------------------------

That morning, Yamaguchi would wake up to find the tatami mat rolled up and put away. On the table, there was a note next to his favourite mug; as he started brewing some of his cheap coffee, he picked it up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes so he could read.

 

'You really shouldn’t let strangers sleep in your house. What if I had attacked you or robbed you blind while you were sleeping? You’re an idiot.  
Remember not to leave your window open at night.  
—Tsukishima Kei'

 

Reading the note, Yamaguchi couldn’t help but laugh a bit. Rude even while writing? This guy was too much.

 

But at least now he finally knew his name. Tsukishima. He reminded himself of it as he poured coffee into his mug, said it under his breath as he changed for work. Tsukishima. Tsukishima Kei. What a strange, fascinating guy.  
His life may be bland and boring, but at least now he had a story to tell at work today.


End file.
